Park Benches
by IvoryOrchid
Summary: Mimato. There are many times in life when people misjudge a book by its cover, but misconceptions are always deceiving and that is why understanding is so essential. Oneshot


A/N: After a long break from Mimato, I've come back to my first fanfic-writing love. Why? I couldn't help it. I _needed _to write this. They say writing is cathartic, so please allow me get this out of my system. ;P As for the title… I really didn't want to use something so bland as that (even though it crossed my mind a few times) yet sadly, creativity has eluded me once again.

One-shot; I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon now, but maybe someday :P

**Park Benches**

- - - - - - - - - -

Odd. That just may be the only word to describe their relationship. During their epic adventure in the Digital World, only a few chance syllables were ever exchanged between their lips. And in such close proximity to a select group of merely eight people, one would think that some sort of conversation would eventually spark up and a warm, friendly fire would stir between the defiant blue-eyed boy and the sprightly pink-clad girl.

"_Oh, but they're too different," _one could protest.

And so they seemed. Two people on the same world but standing at completely opposite poles. He made aloofness into his forte while she thrived in the limelight. She may have furrowed her eyebrows and frowned at his deliberate nonchalance and he may have done the same at her persistent whining, but were they really all that different? After all, each most probably found the other to be preposterously selfish. It's the perfect rationalization as to why one could never quite hit the right note with the other. Simply put, their personalities didn't harmonize. It would have been perfect, except for one tiny factor: it wasn't the case.

Could it be that the two personalities might actually be melodious? And so, the "perfect rationalization" became instead the perfect cover-up.

Because as their adventure progressed, the two of them found themselves subconsciously drawing closer to the other--literally. There wasn't many a time during their adventure when he wasn't standing coolly by her side or she wasn't more than a rock's throw shy of him.

If she should ever have confronted herself about this fact, she would have labeled their physical closeness as 'protection.' In truth, she did feel safe in his presence, there was something about it which exuded this level-headed confidence in which she felt most secure. For him, it gave him a sense of purpose. It was similar to the way he watched out for his younger brother, and he made sure to keep a special eye out for her. She herself had grown a sisterly fondness for his little brother early on, making this threesome into quite the picturesque, quasi family.

And yet, they still barely ever conversed. If they ever _did_ speak about the other, it was always in the third person, simply amplifying the strangeness of their relations even further. They walked about with an air of acknowledged indifference in regards to the other's company. Maybe they were in denial, like the time his brother asked him to confirm the girl's "cuteness" in which he sputtered an astonished, _"Forget it!"_

But this didn't matter, because whether they liked it or not, their true feelings slowly seeped to the surface, if not through their dialogue, then by their actions. It was through their actions where they affirmed their unspoken bond.

It was first noticed when she created epitaphs, crude wooden crosses planted in mounds of sand, for their digital friends whom they had lost along their journey. When she was pushed to continue and fight amidst her cries of refusal, _he_ came and took her side without a moment's hesitation.

When the inner quarrels between the group began, when he became the first to break the seams that held them together and left, it wasn't long before she took his example and decided to separate from the band as well.

And on the final day of their journey, when they were told they had to leave their digital companions and return to their home world, she made a mournful argument for added time, he--with an equally sorrowful expression--followed her lead and pressed for the same outcome. Both devastated when they learned they only had a precious few hours remaining before they had to depart, instead of the weeks and months their hearts had hoped for.

They were there for each other, both knew this comforting fact, although neither could be completely sure the other did. Neither would speak, their whole world could be revolving around them, but let one thing stay in place--let one thing not be tainted. And even though they left the Digital World changed, they left one thing to be constant: their bond remained silent but not dead, invisible but still apparent, and both knew this and so they were content.

But there aren't many constants in life, the sun is supposed to set in order to allow the moon to rise, but they were neither sun nor moon and it wasn't long before what they believed would never change actually did.

- - - - - - - - - -

It happened when she called him one evening, about two months after they had returned from the Digital World, saying she needed to see him--there was something important she wanted to talk about. He, of course, raised an eyebrow at this sudden and rare request, but agreed to meet her nonetheless at the park bench overlooking the lake at seven sharp, only fifteen minutes away.

He made his way along the winding concrete path, enjoying the cool evening weather of late summer. It was almost like a peace offering from nature, an apology for the blazing heat spells it cast only a few weeks before. But all thoughts of the weather and seasons disappeared as soon as he arrived at their rendezvous location.

She was already there, seated at the farthest right end, twiddling with a daisy she had picked along the way. There he saw her, and for a moment his breath failed him and he was at a loss of what to do, why he was there, and what she might say. Yet just as quick as the moment had come, it soon was pushed away as he regained his composure, strolled to the bench at the opposite end of her, and took his seat.

"So, Mimi," he began, voice level but with a distant expression that even surprised him. He allowed the question he was about to ask silently die on his tongue. Instead, he waited for her to tell him why she had called him here.

Picking up on his clue, she turned her head to him, chestnut strands gently brushing across her face.

"Yamato, I--" His face was still facing ahead, towards the direction of the lake which sparkled pink in the midst of the setting sun, but through the corner of his eye he caught the pained expression reflected in her eyes.

It struck a chord in him, her bright brown eyes, which were usually cheerful with an innocent glow of optimism, seemed to be pleading with him right now.

She paused before swallowing her sadness and gathering up some courage. She turned her head towards the glistening lake before starting again, "I miss them… I miss _her_. I--" and involuntarily, tears started to cloud her vision and no more was there a lake, but another body of water fogging up her sight and smearing it by the second.

He averted his attention from the lake to the tops of his shoes. She didn't have to tell him who she missed--he knew. After all, he couldn't blame her. He missed them too. Gabumon, the Digital World. He let out a sigh as the memories flowed back.

"Why is this so _hard_?" she let out an exasperated and tearful laugh, "I mean, I know we're going to see them again, Yamato-kun. I know we will, it's just--" she stopped to let her words fall so she could feel their weight. She turned to him and smiled a bit sadly, "I guess I'm just being silly."

He caught her gaze, but when he did, his blue eyes were so fierce, so full of emotion that her eyes widened, partly from shock and partly from fear. And with the same blazing expression, he stood up, went to her, grabbed her hand, and told her to shut up--that she wasn't being silly at all, that it wasn't a crime to miss Palmon, and when was Tachikawa Mimi ever ashamed of showing her emotions?

They stayed there for a few moments: him, still stone-like in seriousness, her, no longer partly in fear but completely in shock. Finally he let his face soften, gave out another sigh, and sat himself next to her on the wooden bench. She turned her face away, afraid he might see her blushing face. Little did she know, that he carried a light trace of fluster on his face as well.

And as they sat there, a question kept popping up and nagging him to the point where keeping it inside proved to be more strenuous than the answer he might receive from letting it out. He cleared his throat before mumbling, "So, why did you ask _me _to come. I mean, hey, there's always Sora or Jyou… or even Tai." At this, he threw her one of his trademark lopsided grins.

She, staring now up at the few stars that were beginning to appear in the darkened sky, had her own smile playing on her lips. "I don't know," she fidgeted with the tips of her honey hair, "I just always thought you," she paused slightly, musing at the thought before continuing, "could understand me better." She turned her face to him, eyes now back to their usual clear and penetrating luster. She studied his face, awaiting a response.

But there was no immediate response, he just simply threw his head back and searched for the celestial moon. "Remember that time in the Digi-World?" He began slowly, "When we were talking about what we liked to put on our omelets?" He waited for her to give an affirmative nod before proceeding, "And do you remember when you said you liked to eat them with maple syrup?"

She was so befuddled at his random questions, but went along with them nonetheless. "Mhm. I still do. But what does--"

He stopped gazing at the moon and diverted his attention back to her face, "Well, I didn't understand it then, and I still don't understand it now." He smiled once more, although it was his turn to smile sadly.

She may have been offended by his statement if he had told this to her when they had first met, but that was when she was younger--now she was older and more knowing. It's true, Tachikawa Mimi _had _matured, and after going through so much with him and the rest of their group, she knew what he said was just another one of his defense mechanisms. So what's the best way to shut it down?

She stared at him in amazement, before bursting out in a fit of mad giggles. He raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion before asking her, _"What's so funny?"_ Tears were forming again, only this time they were of the cheerful kind, and once the giggles subsided she turned to him, wiped her eyes, and answered, "And I thought _I _was the silly one! Oh, Yamato, Yamato…"

And now it was _his _turn to contemplate the thought of being offended.

She looked at him fondly before continuing, "I really could care less if you don't understand why I like syrup on my omelets," she giggled again. "The fact of the matter is," she placed her index finger on her chin for the effect of looking methodical, " is that you're able to understand how I _feel_. So thank you Ishida Yamato for… for… that."

At this point, Yamato didn't know what to do. In all honesty he was taken off guard--she had read him like a book and he couldn't help feeling that the whole "understanding" thing was somewhat mutual. However, this still didn't mean he wasn't a bit embarrassed and all this was going through his mind as he watched the last traces of pink blend into the overpowering dark blue sky.

They sat there silent for a time; she, expecting him to comment--how, she did not know, he, eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to sort out exactly what had just occurred between the two of them. But then she realized he _wasn't _going to talk, and almost fearing that her sincerity had come unwelcome (like how it was more or less of the time), she finally decided she should get up, wish him goodnight, and leave. But just as she was about to complete this plan of action, right when she was about to open her mouth and bid him farewell, he grabbed her arm and brought her back down to sitting.

She gave him a quizzical look, watching his slack posture, eyebrows still furrowed--thinking--and just at the moment when she was to manifest her confusion into words, he was done with his ponderings and spoke.

"So, tell me, Mimi," he began casually, azure eyes sparkling, "What do you miss _least _from the Digital World?"

He glanced over, wearing another lopsided grin which only grew larger when he saw her throw her hands up in frustration and roll her eyes. He chuckled mentally, _Always the Drama Queen…_

"Let's see," she mused, "What _did_ I really not like… Well, there was all that walking we had to do, like in the desert," she stuck her tongue out this, "that wasn't fun. But really, if there had to be one thing I enjoyed the least, I'd have to say when we had to fight," she frowned a bit and let her cinnamon eyes rest in his direction, "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

His answer came in the form of a smile, and bringing both hands behind his head, he began stargazing.

She cocked her head to the side, "What about you?"

"Hm… I think you already know that answer."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's kind of funny, really. We're actually quite similar, you and me."

Night had fallen and the air began to chill, and like a time which felt so distant now, she subconsciously inched her way closer to him. He didn't mind, no, and she smiled with her lips before tilting her head back to admire the clear star-filled sky.

"That's good, Yamato. I'm glad you finally understand."

- - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Hm. Wasn't quite how I intended it to be, but I think it fine to end it here. But I may have deceived you when I said this was a one-shot fic… it all depends on the reader's interest (because I think I liked how I ended it here :P). I've really missed writing about the Mimato shipping (yes, even after all these years! What can I say… I'm just attached.) But really, your opinions do matter so please tell me what you thought of it. Comments, questions, and constructive criticism are always welcome. Thank you! I hope you enjoyed.


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